Maria Grazia Chiuri and Pierpaolo Piccioli have taken Valentino's couture line to extraordinary levels in the four years they have been there. And they have done so without ever resorting to crash-band-wallop-what-a-picture levels of bling or attention-seeking gimmicks. Not that these clothes are minimalist or undercooked. Far from it: they're probably some of the most exquisitely crafted pieces money can buy.

This was the standout show of the week; workmanship to swoon and sigh over, and clothes you actually want - scratch that, would love - to wear. Their embroidery and crystal beading is so subtly incorporated into the layers of tulle and chiffon that they become utterly intrinsic to the design. How do they do it? How do these two communicate a shared and sometimes complementary aesthetic with each other and with the seamstresses in Rome. How do they manage to reproduce wrought-iron on a dress without making it look, in every sense, hard work? The very first dress that - a graceful, gauzy pale taupe bell with a red tracery of curlicues and rococo squiggles - did just that. Later on, the wrought iron turned into a cobwebby-sheer cloak.

There is never the sense that embellishment has been plonked on for the sake of it, or to please gaudy rich women. Those curlicues also showed up on slim fitted cream suits and drop-shouldered dresses.

Part of the charm of their approach derives from the yin-yang balance achieved in every look: a pearl and crystal beaded jacket partnered with a sweetly "simple" cotton voile skirt being a case in point. That's simple in the way Marie Antoinette in her shepherdess phase was simple by the way - this is voile so delicate and fluttery you want to say you can keep your duchess satin. That's until you see what Grazia Chiuri and Piccioli have done with duchesse satin, sculpting it into sumptuous-yet-austere dresses with throat-grazing necklines, slit-sleeves and cloak-backs, somehow blending Renaissance aesthetic values with those of the Sixties.

That demure, round neckline, long sleeved, slender torsoed, bell-shaped skirt configuration has become much copied elsewhere, increasingly sighted along the front row and even on the staid, traditional red carpet. So as well as immersing themselves in the techniques of couture, Grazia Chiuri and Piccioli have introduced an alternative view of femininity. "We like to think that there are different ways to be sexy" Maria told me.

Further enquiry into their approach doesn't necessarily get you far. Their English is limited, so too my Italian. There's a lot of flower - and flowery - talk. For once, it's appropriate "We like to make magic" says Pierpaolo. Guess what? They did.